


Every Thornbush has it's Roses

by Control_Room



Series: The W-lly Franks Twins [16]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gender Fluid Character, Kim is Random_ag's, Questioning Sexuality, and they were ROOMMATES, brief blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 15:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16200248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Bertrum Piedmont loved Lacie Benton more than anything, even when he could hardly wrap his head around her.Or rather, hir.





	Every Thornbush has it's Roses

Bertrum stifled a yawn as he entered the building. Yesterday, he had called in as sick, but he himself was not ill. Ha! How could the great Bertrum Piedmont be sick? No, it was for the sake of his ailing father, Eros. His father was the person that revealed his own majesty to him, showing Bertrum that greatness could be attainable no matter who or what tries to push you down. And it hurt, sometimes, seeing his father a victim of HIV, and in the final stages of AIDS… only sometimes. His father wore his sickness like a badge of honor, saying he was not ashamed to love whom he desired. Bertrum was not either, just… did not show his love directly. The day before, Bertrum and his father had gone to the park -- the same park as always, the one with the tall oaks. The one Eros would tell Bertrum he was like. They stayed there for hours, until his father had a coughing fit and needed to return to the hospital. All in all, it was a good day. He hoped this day would be good t--

 

“BERTRUM!” Lacie’s hand snapped in his face. He looked up in surprise. Somehow, he was already at his desk. Somehow, a meeting had already transpired. Somehow, one of the rides was almost complete. Somehow, Lacie was… a very, extremely, damn attractive man. Bertrum swallowed roughly, feeling his hands quiver. He had been informed of Lacie taking time off, and being temporarily covered by a man named Benny Lacton. Bertrum wasn’t an idiot like the rest of nearly the entire studio, and quickly realized the anagram. “You alright there? Name’s Benny. Benny Lacton.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Bertrum cleared his throat, questioning his sexuality yet a frickin’ gain. _Great. Just when he was sure he was straight._ “Someone mentioned one of the rides were complete? Which one, exactly?”

 

“The Speed Demon,” Benny answered with a grin, looped curls tied back in a half ponytail. Bertrum briefly imagined running his hand through his hair, catching himself before he got himself in a worse situation. “C’mon, the newbies are finishing it off.”

 

“Alright,” he consented, getting up to follow her, or was it him? Bertrum’s head spun. Benny was clearly Lacie, but what did he, Bertrum refer to the person as? _God… save me,_ he plead internally. He paused and looked up to examine the structure, whereas Benny continued, going over to a Willy Franks who had somehow fallen asleep on one of the metal beams of the hulking ride. Not just any support beam, but one twenty feet off the ground without another nearby. Benny laughed and woke him, making him smile sheepishly and climb (swing) dow-- **wait**. Only one support beam for twenty feet?! That’s bad! That’s atrocious! That’s… going to kill someone! He then saw a powerline, lit up and on. For the ride. That was going to collapse. On Willy and Lacie and slash or Benny. Bertrum’s mind processed this in a quick six seconds, but even that was too late, metal screeching, and it seemed like slow motion to see Willy look up with perturb, eyes widening as he realized what was happening, him moving toward Benny as metal crumpled over them. Bertrum felt himself screaming. Dust settled after the crashing ebbed. Bertrum’s eyes were caught by red seeping into the floor, staining metal and oak alike. Blood. His stomach churned, and he panicked, running over and lifting the rods with an unknown strength. The beams moved, dark brown hands becoming visible and shoving metal away, blood dripping down one. Bertrum dashed to him, assisting Willy with removing the ensnaring cage. Benny crawled out of the gap they made, coughing, covered in scratches, clothes a little torn, but otherwise fine. Willy was the one bleeding profusely, arm sliced open in a wide, but thankfully, not deep gash. Wally chose that unfortunate time to walk in with Sammy and Thomas, the group attracted like moths to light to the sound of the ride falling apart. The blood in the older twin’s face drained a hundred times more rapidly than the blood slipping from his brother’s arm. Bertrum realized what was about to happen, and did his best to prevent it. “Now now Wallace, there’s nothing to panic about, just take a deep breath an--”

 

“YOUR FUCKIN’ ARM IS FUCKIN’ BLEEDIN FUCK OH MY FUCK!” he panicked, freaking out and running to his sibling, blabbering and swearing. A (non bloody) hand slapped over his mouth, but was removed as Willy used it to remove his suspenders. Wally, pale and slightly green, took a shaky breath. “Are you okay, bro? Th-that cut looks pretty damn bad.”

 

“Just hold this a sec,” Willy muttered through grit teeth, giving him one end of a suspender strap, wrapping the other around his arm, self tying a makeshift tourniquet. He winced as the pressure set in, but looked fine in and of the fact there was a slash torn through his skin. “Okay. Okay. I’m going up to the infirmary, if you could send Grant up that would do wonders. Bertrum, do you mind helping me out, seeing as Wally is about to pass out or throw up whatever he ate for lunch for seven years.”

 

“Of course,” he said, masking the tightness in his throat by clearing it again. He turned to Benny, who was being helped onto a chair by Thomas. “Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah,” he gruffly answered, but seemed to be having trouble breathing. “Mind if I use your office, though?”

 

“Of course not, go right ahead,” Bertrum agreed, before returning to help Willy. Willy made sure to keep his bleeding arm away from the man, for which he was grateful. They made their way up the stairs, at first in silence. Bertrum decided to ask the younger of the two about ‘Benny’. “Lacie is Benny, isn't she?”

 

“Huh? Oh! Um, yeah,” Willy answered dutifully, glancing at him. “Usually Lacie goes with hir and she or he depending on hir gender at the time, but usually she, if you’re wondering, and to make life easier.”

 

“Ah. Thank you, Wilbur,” he sighed internally. “How long have you known?”

 

“Since she asked me to buy hir a suit.”

 

“No way.”

 

“Shawn said the same thing, but he didn’t put two and two together.” Willy chuckled. “In his defence, he was hammered.”

 

“Did he try to fight with the wall?”

 

“Obviously!”

 

“Ha! Polk owes me fifteen bucks!”

 

“So….”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You ask Lacie out yet? She’s not going to wait forever, Mr. Piedmont.”

 

“Y-you know about… my infatuation?”

 

“Yes, Bertrum, anyone who looks at you can tell,” Willy snorted, but became serious once more. “But Lacie, she knows too. She’ll kill me if she finds out I told you, but this has gone on long enough.”

 

“I… guess I should thank you ,” Bertrum muttered as they neared the infirmary, Grant already there. Bertrum smiled as he helped Willy into a chair.  “So I’ll give you a shot to show my appreciation.”

 

“Some gratitude,” the curly haired man joked, “a real _stab_ at my pride.”

 

“Just shut up so we can get this over with,” Grant grumbled, but there was no color in his face. “What do you want me for?”

 

“Can you hold my arm down?” Willy asked him, keeping a waver out of his voice as Bertrum retrieved the med kit. “I know it’s an _armful_ , but could you lend a _hand_?”

 

“Sure, I’ll fucking slam your arm down on that table so Bertrum can get you the painkillers that will help you stitch it,” he remarked in a sarcastic tone, but did so anyways, his large hands steady as ever. Willy eyed the syringe Bertrum prepared distastefully. “Just hold still now, Franks.”

 

“Shit!” Bertrum hissed as some of the anodyne squirted in his eye. He scrubbed at it fiercely. “Stings like the devil!” He blinked, clearing his eyes, and held the needle over Willy’s skin, hesitating momentarily. “Just so you know, I don’t envy you.”

 

“I figured. Fuck!” he swore, hands balling into fists, face twisting in discomfort as the metal pierced him and the liquid was injected. “It burns like hell! Damn! Some powerful narcotic Drew got us, shit! It’s worse than the actual cut…. Pass me that needle, Bertrum, please.”

 

“Here,” Bertrum shakily gave him a prepared needle and thread, turning away and not watching this young man slowly pull his skin back where it belonged, tugging it into position carefully. “Are you done?”

 

“Impatient for the wrong things, aren’t you?” Willy hummed, finishing off the last stich and tying it off. “Yes. Happy now?”

 

“Not sure,” he muttered, then went off to find the other Franks twin’s boyfriends. Maybe they could help. Thomas and Sammy had just left Wally to calm down in the public room, so Bertrum decided now would be a good time to talk to them, and asked them into a random room. “Okay, can I ask you both something personal?”

 

“Shoot,” Thomas shrugged.

 

“Depends,” Sammy more cautiously deigned.

 

“Alright,” he inhaled sharply, then forced it out as fast as he could while still being understandable. “When did you realize you liked guys and girls?”

 

“Fuck… High school,” Tom answered, shuddering. “God, the amount of times I was called on a question and I was at half mast, damn teacher making us stand up… not a fun experience. Would never repeat. Ever. Hey, you stop laughing at me, Sammy.”

 

“Fine, sweetheart,” he chuckled. Then he paused and thought about the question. “I’ve got to say, when I was pretty little, like, a kid. I had a few puppy crushes on people when I was around twelve, never noticed the difference between boys and girls. Why are you asking, Bertrum?”

 

“I definitely do not have a crush on Benny.” he blurted, a terrible cover and did the opposite than the hope. “Nope, not thinking about how strong and handsome Benny is and h-- I’m shutting up now.”

 

“Oh! Welcome to bi bay!” Thomas brightly told him. Bertrum stared in surprise. “Boys and girls? Yep.”

 

“But I… um… I still like Lacie too, and I wouldn’t mind if she was a guy, you, uh, get me?”

 

“Damn!” Sammy smirked, then slapped his back. “Guess you’re joining me in pan hell, where you swing all ways, always.”

 

“Fits the bill,” Bertrum exhaled, paling, feeling his stomach flip flop. “Well. I, uh, guess I’m pan?”

 

“It works,” Thomas shrugged. “To each their own.”

 

“Thanks,” Bertrum said dryly, getting on the elevator to return to his workstation and check on Benny. He tilted his head back, exhaling long and slow. ‘Well, what a lovely predicament I’m in.’

 

“Hey Bertrum,” Benny greeted, buttoning hir shirt, as though he had taken it off and hir binder as well, and Bertrum’s breath hitched at the thought of Lacie undressing in his office, which became one of the thoughts he banned to two am. “You look kind of… red.”

 

“No shit, Lacie.”

 

Bertrum seemed to buffer, jaw snapping shut and eyes widening. It was almost as though the day couldn’t get worse.

 

Benny froze. There was _no fucking way_ **_Bertrum_ ** _could tell who he was_.

 

"What did you call me?" she demanded, spinning the man around with his arm twisted behind his back, pushing him against the wall forcefully. "That some sort of insult?!"

 

"N-no!" Bertrum denied, squirming and turning red. His arm was twisted higher, and he began to speak without thinking again. "Ow! Damn, it was nothing, Lacie! I mean Benny! Shit!  I... I-I.... Um, shit shit shit!"

 

“You know the truth,” Benny continued right by his ear, but using Lacie’s voice, and Bertrum felt himself go hot and cold all over, “Don’t you?”

 

“No!” Bertrum gainsaid, trying to keep his mouth and body in check, failing on both in his fluster. “Yes! Maybe?! I don’t know, I think I do?!”

 

“Sure, Bertie,” he rolled hir eyes, pushing him against the wall harder. She felt him trembling and nervous, but afraid? No. He just seemed worried he’d push hir away. He sighed. “You’re right. You do. What now? Are ya gonna out me to the rest of the studio?”

 

“Absolutely not, I’m not that cold hearted, and I lo- !” he opposed, but fell silent, and she let him off the wall, his arm falling back to his side before he took it in the other to rub the pain out. Benny studied him critically. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “DO YOU WANT TO COME OVER TONIGHT YOU CAN BE LACIE OR BENNY I JUST… OK BYE.”

 

He ran out.

  


“Mr. Piedmont?” Kim asked incredulously, staring at the man sitting in the corner of his workstation, a position the young toymaker usually found himself in when he was too flustered to work (i.e., when Shawn would tease him incessantly). “Uh… can I help you?”

 

“Not really,” the designer blandly confirmed. “Can I sit here?”

 

“This is my corner, but sure,” Kim shrugged. Bertrum didn’t reply. “Just as long I don’t need it.”

 

“Thanks,” Bertrum mumbled, then covered his face in his hands. “You ever just… want to cry?”

 

“Sir?” Kim’s eyes widened as he stared at the usually confident and sententious man. “Are… are you ok?”

 

“No, Kim, I really don’t think so. In fact, I’m fairly certain I am quite the opposite of okay.”

 

“Um… alright, I guess.”

 

“Grosso, have you ever thought about being completely destroyed by an impossibly strong person you have the untamable desire to kiss?”

 

Kim joined him in the corner.

  


Lacie parked her car outside the house. Yes, it was a house. She wasn’t exactly sure what she anticipated, but she presumed it would be more extravagant, like a manor or mansion. It wasn’t even a large and fancy city house, but a simple little secluded thing, near the outskirts of the town. It was plain and white, two windows in the front with a plain wood door, just so… unlike Bertrum. It was almost eerie. She knocked carefully, walking in. She wondered if the outside was a facade, and the inside was more extravagant. That presumption was proven false. The inside was just as bare, a sole plain table, two ordinary chairs, a simple couch. It was pristine, but not so clean to be unlived in. The kitchen was homespun, only with the most basic things, and merely two of everything. She looked around, a small round table near the couch, with a rudimentary lamp and a picture frame. There were three pictures in the entire house, that one and two hanging. One with Bertrum and an elderly man she could only assume was his father in a park, one with her and him on the first test ride of their first roller coaster, and the last one on the table. She picked it up to examine it. Bertrum’s graduation with honors, his father beside him, neither grinning, but with small smiles beaming of pride. She carefully returned it to the table.

 

“Bertrum?” she called after a moment, and a sudden fall was heard, followed by a nervously smiling face popping out from around the corner of the hallway. She grinned. “There you are, did you forget I was coming over?”

 

“Um… no,” he lied, coming in, wringing his wrist, going over to the kitchen and starting the teapot. “Tea, coffee?”

 

“Tea sounds nice,” Lacie answered, more for her nerves than anything. The house put her on edge. She settled on the couch. Unlike appearances, it was much softer than it originally seemed, and she sank into the plush. Everything seemed so off and odd. “This place is… different.”

 

“How so?” Bertrum asked, just as the teapot began whistling. He handed her a mug with some sort of jasmine tea, and it was delicious. Sweet and aromatic. The couch shifted as he sat on the opposite end. Still, since the lounge was so small, they were nearly touching anyways. Lacie paused, then shrugged. “Ah, well, it’s… it’s what I’ve grown up with.”

 

“I mean like… wait,” hir mind processed his statement, “you’ve always lived like this?”

 

“Um… yes?” he seemed just as confused as she was. “Is something wrong?”

 

“It’s just so…” _empty, bare, lonely_ “Modest?”

 

“This is how I was raised, I thought everyone lives likes this.”

 

“Most people have more stuff. Have you ever lived with anyone?”

 

“Well, up until three years ago my father lived here with me, and now… well, thank God he’s not dead, but the doctors….”

 

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

 

“Ha, don’t be,” Bertrum offered a small smile. “He doesn’t let anyone feel sorry for him. In his mind, if something you do has consequences, be proud of them, even if it kills you.”

 

“Wow, sounds tough.”

 

“He is my inspiration. He and, well… you.”

 

“Are you… admitting to something?”

 

“Well… no. Not really. Haven’t you noticed you’re a star?”

 

“Oh, Bertrum, hush!”

 

“You hush!”

 

She giggled, leaning hir head on his shoulder.

 

He gently rested his head over hirs. It was just so peaceful.

 

“Do you want to move in with me?”

 

“What?” Lacie rose hir head in surprise, bumping his chin. He looked at her nervously. She rose an eyebrow. “Like, in a relationship move in?”

 

“Uh, I mean, your salary isn't large, and rent is expensive… like roommates type of moving in.”

 

“Bertrum, what exactly are you suggesting?”

 

“Lacie, look, I’m not good at living alone, and well, any company would be welcome, so I’m offering you a room here.”

 

“A room?” she blinked. Oh, she was going to turn his house inside out and make it into a home. “Of course! I’ll bring my stuff asap. Thanks, Bertie!”

 

She dashed out, running to her car and leaving him sitting on his couch to ponder what kind of hell he dug himself into.

 

Hir car returned after a while, and he felt himself smile at hir yelling to help get hir stuff in.

 

He decided that if this was Hell, he was completely fine with being damned.


End file.
